The fisherman sits still, huddled in his wooden, dug-out canoe.

Sweat pours down his black skin as the sun becomes hotter.

But, he continues on, for stopping now would mean no food for wife and Manny and Dorna.

He wonders why the tuna don’t come anymore.

And, there he sees it there, the birds flying over – a sign that the tuna are near. For the white, long legged birds eat the tiny fish that swim beside the tuna.

He swoops in, and makes his catch!

He smiles sailing back, for simple men are happy when their families are.

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